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by The Erumpent Horn
Summary: Fifty ficlets, all depicting a domestic life shared by Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger after the War. Varying lengths and internal themes, rated T for a couple of swear words. Sometimes OOC, slightly AU, EWE.
1. Popcorn

**Okay, so I got the idea for this fic while eating a bowl of popcorn and watching True Blood. I thought that it would be fun, and hopefully fairly humorous. Enjoy.**

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><p>"Granger, what in Merlin's name is <em>that<em>?" Draco asked Hermione in the cinema foyer. It was the Autumn after the War had ended, and Draco had reluctantly agreed to go and see a movie with Hermione in the processes of gaining her forgiveness for the past eight years of their lives. He was currently pointing at the bucket she had in one hand, while her other hand held a cup of Coke.

"That, Draco, is popcorn."

"What's popcorn?"

"It's a snack that is commonly eaten when watching a film. It's really very nice. You should try some. It's sweet flavoured," Hermione told him, taking a sip of her drink.

"I'd really rather not get poisoned eating muggle food, thanks." Draco replied doubtfully, eyeing up the snack food. He consulted his watch. "Aren't we going to be late for the movie?"

"Oh. Right you are, Draco. Follow me. It's a romantic comedy, by the way. The last thing I needed to watch was an action film where people are fighting – I know too much about real fighting to feel entirely comfortable to watch something like that. You understand, don't you?" Hermione asked, pushing the door open with her backside before the pair sat down five rows from the front. She set her cup down in the circular hole at the end of the armrest and offered the bucket to her blonde-haired companion. "You sure you don't want some?"

"No thanks, Granger. When does the film start?"

"In a minute," said Hermione, taking a bite into a piece of popcorn. She sighed with contentment and the lights dimmed down. "Oh, you might want to talk very quietly if you must talk at all. Or whisper."

Draco nodded, and the curtains pulled apart. Suddenly, an advert showing a fierce battle flashed onto the enormous screen, the sounds of explosions threatened to burst Hermione's eardrums, while Draco had shrieked, and leapt out of his seat, sending popcorn flying and nestling anywhere it could. Most of it landed on Hermione – in her hair, down her t-shirt, and even one piece went in her ear, but Draco got a piece in his mouth, and he spat it out while Hermione pulled him down. He had drawn his wand and was pointing it threateningly at the screen, while his face showed undiluted fear.

"Draco! What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Hermione whispered furiously. "We're leaving. Now."

And Draco let Hermione drag him out of the cinema and down to the park across the street. She pushed him down onto a bench before sitting next to him. They sat in silence until Draco peeked down at her chest, where he spied a tiny sliver of popcorn hiding beneath the neckline of her t-shirt, and he snorted with laughter.

"What now?"

"You've got popcorn in your cleavage."

"Oh shut up," said Hermione, before picking a bit out of the collar of his shirt and flicking it away. "That was a bloody waste of money."

"I don't know. The popcorn looks better on you than it did in the bucket." Draco said, laughing at her.

"Shut up," Hermione repeated. But she was smiling as she said it.

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><p><strong>I'm more than happy to take suggestions for ficlets, and you will be given credit for this as such. Leave me a review - tell me what you like or perhaps don't like.<strong>

**Lottie.**


	2. Dinner

**Hello Ficlet two! I hope you like this one, because it's the opening up, and labelling of the odd relationship Hermione and Draco share over a dinner. Enjoy.**

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><p>"Draco! Dinner's ready!" Hermione yelled, pouring a mustard cream sauce on the salt beef and mashed potatoes she had cooked for her dinner with Draco. It had been a week since the cinema incident, and still, Hermione didn't know why he hadn't taken her out as some sort of apology. Of course, every time she had that thought, it was quickly followed by 'he's Draco Malfoy, why on Earth would he apologise?' She cocked an ear, to hear him coming in from the living room, and then his fancy shoes clicked on the wooden boards of her hallway.<p>

"Wow, Hermione, this looks amazing," said Draco, sitting himself at the table. Hermione was in the middle of setting down his plate when she froze. It took her a minute to clear her head, but she then set the plate down and sat down with her own. Draco had called her 'Hermione'. And he had said it warmly, not with the usual stiffness with which he used to call her 'Granger'.

"I guarantee it tastes better than it looks," Hermione quipped, pouring them a glass of Elf wine each.

"Oh my wizard god, you were right." Draco said around a moan, making Hermione blush. She wondered if perhaps she was developing a crush on the Malfoy heir and then she shook her head vehemently. No, that was preposterous. "Er, Hermione, are you alright? The thoughts are flying so fast across your face, I can't catch them."

"Oh, you wouldn't want to," laughed Hermione. "So you like the salt beef?"

"I love it. It's beautifully cooked. Muggles must get on alright, huh?" Draco asked, taking another bite of the meat.

"We get on absolutely fine, Draco. Are you to Hogwarts tomorrow? We're beginning the rebuild. The Ministry finally managed to find the blueprints for the Castle, so we can officially get started on the big fix. We've had everything cleared up for weeks, and we've been able to assess the damage. I think the Castle did pretty well, considering the fact that we had Giants, Acromantula and Blasting charms attacking it every other minute." Hermione told him.

"One, you still consider yourself a muggle? You're a witch, Hermione. You are a magical being. Two, am I welcome at Hogwarts? I'm fully aware that people doubt the sincerity of our friendship."

"In answer, yes, of course I do. I'm proud of being a Mud-"

"Don't call yourself that!"

"Why shouldn't I? It's carved into my arm, isn't it? Anyway, I'm not going to deny my roots. And as for point two, why shouldn't you come? The best way to convince everyone that you're sincere about your intentions now – and that you're on the right side – is to come and help rebuild. Besides, Hogwarts was your home as much as mine for those six years, you should be there. Anyone from school that is seventeen and over is coming to help. You should be with us."

"Then I'll pick you up at 8:30 in the morning. If we're early, we'll grab breakfast in Diagon Alley."

"I look forward to it. I'm glad you're doing this. Wait a minute, did you say we had a friendship? When did we become friends?" Hermione asked, taking a sip of wine.

"I don't know, but you can't deny that we are. We're constantly spending time together. We're friends, Hermione, whether you like it or not."

"If someone had told me seven years ago that we'd be sharing dinner in my flat and that we were friends, I'd ask them what they were smoking," Hermione noted, making Draco laugh. "I'm glad we are friends, though. I'm glad that in the end, you weren't the evil git everyone thought you were."

"Me too."

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><p><strong>Well, there it is. Ficlet three will be during the rebuild, and I'm thinking it might be a bit longer. It will also be from McGonagall's viewpoint as well.<strong>

**Leave me a review!**

**Lottie.**


	3. Rebuild

**I'm back, sorry it's been a while. Thanks to ashley1985, TPLOTKE and NikkiMai.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Hermione Granger Apparated into the middle of the cleared Great Hall. Being the Headmistress of Hogwarts gave Minerva McGonagall perks, and allowing Hermione, Harry, Ron and Neville to Apparate in and out as they pleased was one of them. What Minerva didn't anticipate, though, when she saw her favourite student, was the tall, slim, blonde-haired Slytherin whose hand was released from Hermione's grasp once they had Apparated in. He was the boy – no, he was a man now – who had seemingly been on their side during the War, and who had walked steadily and willingly back to the Death Eaters. What on Earth was Hermione Granger doing, holding hands with Draco Malfoy, or even Apparating him into the wreckage that was a beautiful castle only a year before. As if she knew Minerva was staring at them, Hermione blushed, gripped Malfoy's sleeve and tugged him along with her over to the Transfiguration teacher. Minerva heard the buzz of Draco's voice, but she couldn't make out what he was telling Hermione so vehemently.<p>

"_Professor McGonagall!"_ Hermione said loudly, cutting Malfoy off and making him fall silent, much to Minerva's confusion. "How are you? We've come to help the rebuild."

"_You_ have come to help the rebuild, Miss Granger. I don't think I know why Mr Malfoy has accompanied you, though," said Minerva somewhat nervously, gesturing vaguely at Malfoy. She would never admit it to anyone, except perhaps Albus, but she was afraid of Malfoy. He reminded her too much of Voldemort, who had only been a few school years above Minerva. Malfoy had the same charm, and the same intelligence that Tom Riddle had had before completely reinventing himself.

"Professor, Draco's come to help as well. He's sincere about this. He _wants_ to help. He knows nooks and crannies in this castle that very few other people know. He's found areas of the Castle that even the Marauders never found. And you know that an extra wand will help get the job done that little bit faster." Hermione said, sounding every bit like she was petitioning for his rights. Minerva sighed and wondered whether she was making the right choice, but she nodded wearily.

"Alright. Welcome back to Hogwarts, Mr Malfoy. Go and see Potter, he'll tell you where you're to work – he's got the blueprints and an assessment of the damage in that area." Minerva said. She stared at Hermione with a look that she hoped told Hermione to _keep an eye on him_. The two former students walked off, talking intensely, to where Harry Potter was standing with Ginny Weasley. The two had been inseparable since the War, even after poor Fred Weasley had been mercilessly killed. Minerva watched intently as Harry greeted his best friend warmly, but glared at Malfoy, while Ginny just smirked knowingly. After a few minutes of talking, Hermione and Malfoy walked into the courtyard together and started the complicated charms necessary to build the courtyard up again.

Hours passed, with the courtyard in particular looking a damn sight better than it had in months, though it wasn't at the forefront of the Headmistress' mind. She was more preoccupied with the obvious flirting and chemistry between her favourite student and the nephew of Voldemort's most dedicated follower. Their closeness unnerved her, after the years of feuding. It seemed almost unnatural. However, after her history, and that of the man she trusted most in the entire world, it was about time that someone could happily love someone forbidden. If that forbidden someone was Draco Malfoy, who cared? Minerva knew there was no point trying to prevent the inevitable – both Hermione and Malfoy were very determined people. If they wanted to make it work, then you could trust that out of everyone in the world, those two would be the ones to do it.

"You're worried about her too, aren't you, Professor?" Harry asked from beside her, looking at his bushy-haired friend and her companion.

"Yes, Harry, I am. But I know Hermione Granger. She is not the sort of girl who would make a choice like this against her will. We just have to trust that she knows what she's doing."

"She knows what she's doing, but I don't think she knows what _he's_ doing," said Harry. Minerva looked at him and saw an almost cruel expression of distrust on his face.

"I'm not sure I understand."

"He's only befriended her to try and get into the good graces of the Wizarding World. His parents may have escaped Azkaban by defecting at the last minute, but nobody trusts them. Hermione is their ticket out of it. If they're seen to be friendly with a Muggle born Gryffindor girl – and one of my best friends, everyone will stop being so cautious around them."

"I don't know, Harry, they look like they genuinely get along." Minerva remarked. Harry looked at her for the first time since he'd wandered over to her.

"Professor, he's a very good actor. It runs in the family, the same way gold does," said Harry quietly, but with an ice cold venom in his voice. Minerva looked at Hermione and Malfoy again, and they were both laughing at something, their heads close together and their fingers just brushing against each other's. He slung an arm around her shoulders, and though Minerva could only see half of Hermione's face, she could see the blush from twenty feet away, and the smile of bliss. Minerva frowned and turned back to the Boy Who Lived Again, who was staring back at her with a sort of grim satisfaction on his handsome face.

"You think the affection between them is one-sided." It wasn't a question.

"If he were anyone else, I'd give them the benefit of the doubt."

Suddenly, a shriek sounded from ahead of them, making their heads snap forwards and their wands appear in their hands. They needn't have worried by the looks of it – Malfoy had just doused Hermione with cold water straight from his wand. Hermione dried herself by magic as Minerva and Harry watched and she was clearly scolding Malfoy, though she was also evidently holding back a smile. Harry noticeably tensed beside Minerva when Malfoy brushed a curl back from Hermione's face and left his palm resting on her cheek.

"Harry, leave it. Hermione can handle herself, she's a very smart girl." Minerva told him sternly before walking more towards the pair, transfiguring regular pebbles into magnificent statues. Soon, a large group of statues stood proudly beside her, and Filius Flitwick, the tiny Charms professor, put a series of complex charms on each of them. Hermione, having seen the advanced wand-work, had come over to investigate and – more importantly for Hermione Granger – to learn.

"Hello Professor. Lovely day, isn't it? The Castle's starting to come back together nicely." Hermione told Minerva, earning a smile.

"It is. I think Albus would be proud," said Minerva sadly. Albus was one of her closest friends, and it still hurt to remember seeing his broken body at the foot of the Astronomy Tower. A gentle pat on her shoulder broke Minerva out of her memories, and she looked at the nineteen year old girl.

"Professor Dumbledore is proud, Professor. He's proud of you." Hermione said, before smiling sadly and walking back to Malfoy. Minerva watched as he asked her a question before pulling her into a loose hug. There was a look of shock on Hermione's face, indicating that he had never hugged her before, and Harry's words flooded back to the forefront of Minerva's mind. If Harry was right, poor Hermione would be in a terrible amount of emotional pain caused by the boy she was hugging at that moment.

"Poor child."

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><p><strong>Until next time,<strong>

**Lottie.**


	4. Used

**I'm not quite sure what the hell is going on with this one. It's quite mad, really, but it was something that just sort of spilled onto the word document. Oh well.**

**Thanks to rileylunawolf and toritarxx for putting this on Story Alert.**

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><p>"It's so pretty..." Hermione murmured, lying on her kitchen floor, surrounded by pieces of broken glass. She heard the Floo flare up, and seconds later, there was a crunch as Draco stepped on the many shattered glasses that had been carelessly thrown to the floor. As usual, he had headed straight to the kitchen to get a glass of water, but this time, the circumstances had changed, Hermione thought to herself smugly.<p>

"Hermione? What's going on? Why is there glass everywhere? And why the hell are you lying in the middle of it?" Draco demanded, taking another step that was punctuated by a crunch.

"Because it's fascinating to be on the same level. To see the splinters of glass glittering... it's perfect."

"Hermione?" Draco asked, worry lacing his voice. Hermione's head lolled towards him, and she felt a slight sting in her cheek as it stroked the clear shards. "Merlin's beard, Hermione! Get up. Now."

"Nope," replied Hermione in a sing-song voice, popping the 'p'. "I am very, very high."

"No you're not. You're on the floor. I wouldn't say that that's very high at all," said Draco, clearly confused about what she meant. "And what is that smell?"

"Weed. It's weed, and I was smoking it, and now I am high." Hermione told him before dissolving into giggles. "Weed is a drug, Mr Draco Malfoy, and it is _wonderful_."

"Okay, we need to clear this mess up," said Draco. He looked down at Hermione disdainfully and flicked his wand, making most of the glass vanish. The only remnants of the splinters were the ones embedded in her skin. Her hands reached up in the air, trying to catch a ray of sunlight streaming in through the window. The Floo flared again, and in four seconds, Harry had skidded into the kitchen, where Hermione's face was cut and bleeding, and Draco was standing over her.

"What the fuck?" Harry yelled, his wand pointed at Draco's heart.

"Oh stop acting the hero, Potter, I found her like this a few minutes ago. She mentioned something about some weeds." Draco snapped irritably, his wand pointed at his enemy.

"Weed?" Harry asked, looking confused. Hermione decided it was time for her to chip in.

"Yes, Harry. Weed. I smoked weed for the first time in my life. Probably the last too, I feel quite sick."

"He made you smoke it, didn't he? Hermione, he's fucking using you to get his family back in the good graces of the Wizarding community. He's going to make you fall for him and then he's going to ruthlessly ditch you. You will be used, and you will be broken." Harry said vehemently, glaring at Draco as Hermione laughed and laughed.

"Draco, use me? You talk a load of crap, Harry. No one is using me, no one had used me and no one ever will use me. I will use them. Now please go away. I plan on having amazing sex with Draco." Hermione said with a sigh, her eyes closed, and a lustful smirk pulling her lips up.

Draco's eyes widened comically and his face paled even more than usual. "Er, no thanks, Hermione. Perhaps you should just go to bed. I'll go home. Harry can help sort you out. Bye!"

And with that, Draco fled from Hermione's home, leaving an amused Hermione and a somewhat sickened Harry behind.

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><p><strong>Well, that's that, I suppose. Until the next chapter,<strong>

**Lottie.**


	5. Mortified

**Here you go:**

**Thanks to NoseInABook666, FrozenFire676, Lilith Jinx and tripleloopx for putting this on their story alert. I really appreciate it :)**

**Enjoy, beauties.**

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><p>"Harry? What are you doing here? And why does my face feel funny?" Hermione asked, blinking blearily in the sunlight streaming through her bedroom window. She had just spotted Harry sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, reading <em>Hogwarts, A History<em>. She smiled, thinking that it was about time he decided to read it before a sharp pain tore at several points in her cheek.

"Good, you're awake. Breakfast?" Harry asked, closing the book with a snap.

"Harry, what happened to me?" Hermione demanded, and her friend sighed despairingly.

"You told us – Malfoy and I, that is – that you had smoked weed. Malfoy found you surrounded by broken glass, and I arrived a couple of minutes after he had. You were just lying there, and the glass had cut into your cheek. It wasn't pretty. I should probably tell you now that your secret is out," said Harry, not looking at her. Hermione's heart started to pound. If she was drugged up and both Draco and Harry were around, who knows what she could have said?

"Tell me."

"You said, and I quote, that you 'plan on having amazing sex with Draco'. It was awful. He got out as quickly as he could, and I can't say I blame him, really. It was more than a bit weird." Harry told her without any tact whatsoever.

"Oh my wizard god, just kill me now. Cast the killing curse on me." Hermione moaned, face down in her pillow, her cheeks hot with mortification. "Has he come back since?"

"No. Do you want something to eat?"

"I want to be in a coma, if that answers your question."

"That's not funny," said Harry disapprovingly. Hermione sighed defeatedly.

"No, it's not. But I may as well never leave this place again. Ever. I am officially mortified." Hermione said, sitting up in her bed and pulling down her pyjama top. It was with another blush that she realised that Harry must have dressed her in her night clothes before putting her in bed.

"Why did you even do it in the first place? Smoke weed, I mean. It's not like you, Hermione, you're the complete opposite of everything like that."

"I... I was... I don't even know, Harry. I can't lie, you know I can't. I just have no idea whatsoever. It's not that I don't remember, I just thought at the time that I nearly lost my life a lot over the years and there's so much I haven't done. So I smoked weed. I won't be doing that again in a hurry, that's for sure." Hermione told him, stretching and feeling the bones pop in her back.

Harry stared at her incredulously. "You took drugs because you'd _never done it before_?"

"That's what I said."

"You're such an idiot!"

"Say what you think, Harry, by all means," snapped Hermione in reply, making the Boy Who Lived Again fall silent with a flush upon his face. Hermione Granger continued to glare at him as he stuttered a few times, clearly trying to think of an appropriate response, and after the fourth stumbling speech, she sighed. "I'm sorry, Harry. I know I was an idiot last night, and I just didn't need you to reiterate it."

"It was hilarious, if it makes you feel better," said Harry disingenuously, and Hermione managed to roll her eyes and give a weak smile in return before she swung her legs over the bed.

"I could murder a cup of tea. Would you like one? It's the least I can do for... well, last night."

"Oh yes please. You know how I like it," said Harry, stretching and putting the book back on the shelf carefully, earning an approving smile from Hermione.

"Strong, with a splash of milk and two sugars."

"That's the one."

Hermione was about to ask if he wanted something to eat as well when they heard the Floo flare up. Hermione dashed to her bedside table, upon which her wand was lying, while Harry crept to the doorway of her bedroom, wand already in hand. She felt unashamed of their caution – after a year on the run, hunting horcuxes and getting into more dangerous situations than they could have dreamed, they had learnt to have their wands close every second of the day. However, it seemed unlikely to Hermione that an attacker would come in through the Floo, but two of the Golden Trio had to be prepared for the worst. The worst, however, came in the form of Ronald Weasley. They hadn't seen him since Fred's funeral, after he had refused point blank to go to even Remus' or Tonks'. Hermione and Harry had been to every funeral they had been invited to out of courtesy and respect, while Ron shut himself away and spoke to no one but his mother and father. It had been five months, and Harry and Hermione were only just starting to come to terms with the fact that Ron might not come round this time. Shit had gotten personal after the War, and it wasn't Hermione that had broken off their ephemeral relationship, that was for sure.

"Ron," croaked Harry, thickly. Their red-haired friend turned to Harry as though seeing him for the first time.

"What are you doing here?" Ron asked rudely, ignoring the look of hurt that flashed upon Harry's face.

"I was in some trouble here last night, and Harry very kindly helped me get better." Hermione said. Ron turned to her. "Ronald, we've missed you. Where have you been?"

"Mourning the loss of my brother. Unlike you. You've not mourned a thing. No, you've been happily going out with Draco Malfoy. Did you forget about me? Or did you forget about the time you were tortured and nearly killed in his house?" Ron spat at her, making an odd mix of fury and grief wash over her in a tidal wave of emotion. No, Hermione had not forgotten her torture, and she had not forgotten about Ronald Weasley either. She had been trying to forget it all. The scars on her arm burned again as if reminding her that they were still there.

"You have no right to come in here and start throwing false accusations around, Ron. We understand that you're still hurting, and so are we, but we're all trying to move on from everything that's happened in the past few years. And verbally attacking Hermione isn't okay either, so thanks for nothing there." Harry told Ron firmly. He took a step towards the youngest Weasley male, but Ron flinched back before he Disapparated from Hermione's bedroom. The two remaining adults stared at each other in shock, confusion and sadness.

"What the hell was all that about?" Harry asked, voicing the exact question in Hermione's mind.

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><p><strong>Well, there is ficlet five. I'm open to suggestions for ficlets, and I'd love to see some more reviews :)<strong>

**Lottie.**


	6. Face Your Fears

**First and foremost, thank you to these people:**

**LittleRoma, HermioneRavenclawMalfoy, arai8, The Last Poison Apple, xamethyst-rosex, Just Your Above Average Malfoy, and . (who also added this to Favourite Story - thank you so much!) for adding this to their Story Alerts.**

**Enjoy one and all :)**

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><p>It had been four days since Ron's abrupt arrival and consecutive departure from Hermione's flat. Four days in which Harry was checking up on her every day, Ginny was cursing her brother's idiocy and Draco was oddly silent about everything that had gone on. Hermione wondered why he didn't just man up and talk to her while she pulled on a baggy sweatshirt and skinny jeans. She then heard her Floo flare up, and a feeling of hope washed over her, and quickly disappeared when she heard Ginny call out.<p>

"Hermione? Hello? Are you home?" Ginny asked irritably.

Hermione shook her head with a smile. "No, you daft cow, I'm in here! What's up?"

"The ceiling," replied Ginny, sarcasm lacing her voice. "Heard from the Dragon Man yet?"

"Nope," said Hermione. The 'Dragon Man' was what Ginny liked to call Draco behind his back, and while it irritated the Brightest Witch of Her Age for the first couple of weeks, she could now appreciate the nickname.

"Shame. I think you two would have been good together, personally. I know Harry hates him – and has every right to and all – but he really is something to look at, isn't he?" Ginny said dreamily, throwing herself down on Hermione's bed carelessly. The older woman looked down at her and shook her head.

"Honestly, the way you go on, Ginny. Does Harry not exist?"

"Of course he does, and don't get me wrong, he's the sexiest thing alive – I just agree with _Witch Weekly_. Draco Malfoy is a Greek God."

"Good to know, Weaslette," drawled Draco from the doorway, making Hermione jump and Ginny scowl. He looked immaculate, and Hermione couldn't help but agree with Ginny and the famous women's gossip magazine. He wore a pale grey shirt with the sleeved rolled up, and silver bow tie and dark grey trousers. Hermione saw the handle of his new wand peeking out of one of his pockets.

"I told you not to call me that, Malfoy," said Ginny angrily, snapping Hermione out of her scrutiny of Draco Malfoy.

"And I ignored you. And while we're stating out the obvious, Hermione, you're blushing."

"Oh shut up," Hermione told him, feeling her cheeks heat up even more now that she was being examined.

"So I thought that letting everything die down for a few days would be a good idea," continued Draco, ignoring Hermione's retort. "Potter also told me what happened with Weasel-Bee the morning after your... well, after you... anyway, I thought you could do with cheering up, so you need to change into a nicer top than that rag you're wearing because we're leaving in ten."

"And what were to happen if she already had plans?"

"Then Hermione would cancel them and come out with me."

"I'm so glad that you two are comfortable enough to talk about me when I'm _right here_. I'm going to get changed," said Hermione with a small smile, walking through to her bedroom. She dashed to her wardrobe, where she searched for her grey silk top. Eventually she found the flowing material at the very back of the closet and tugged her baggy jumper off to leave her in her nude cotton bra before she carefully pulled the silk over her head. After tugging on some socks, she found her high-heeled black ankle boots and then subsequently threw them aside upon realising that she had no make-up on. Dashing to her dressing table, she growled out of frustration before pulling her hair into a high, but loose topknot. Hermione rooted in her make-up bag for her mascara, coated her lashes with it and then spread a small amount of Aloe Vera Vaseline on her lips before tugging on her ankle boots and stumbling out of her bedroom.

"Wow. I'll leave you two to it then," said Ginny with a mischievous grin on her face. Hermione shot her a weak glare as her red-haired friend Apparated out of the flat. She then turned to look at Draco, who smiled and looked her up and down.

"Not bad, Granger. I've got a surprise for you," Draco said, and took her hand before she could protest, Apparating them to a field where a single broomstick hovered before them. Hermione eyed it warily. It was well known that she hated flying, and that she was absolutely terrified of heights, despite being a witch. She barely noticed that Draco was still holding her hand – a fact that would have had butterflies in her stomach on any other occasion. The only thing Hermione Granger could feel was pounding in her ears and ice cold dread in her chest.

"I don't want to do this. At all."

"Tough, Hermione. Today, you're going to face your fears."

"Like hell I am," retorted Hermione. "I'm _not_ getting on that broomstick, Draco."

"Alright. You're not getting on the broomstick," said Draco casually, pocketing his wand. "But you do realise that this is now the only way to leave this field? I put anti-Apparition charms on this entire bit of land while you were staring at that broom. The only way we will be leaving here is if we fly out. On the broom."

Hermione glared at him. "You're bluffing."

"Am I? Try and Apparate out, then."

So Hermione gripped her wand and turned on the spot. She didn't feel the spinning, squeezing sensation that normally came with that mode of travel. Instead, she felt the heat of the sun on her face. Draco wasn't bluffing: Hermione couldn't Apparate out. She whirled again and saw a smug smile on Draco's handsome face. "You bastard!"

"Wrong. I wasn't born out of wedlock, thank you very much," said Draco in reply. "I'm not going to let you fall, Hermione. I promise on my life that I will not let you get hurt while riding this broomstick."

"I hate you."

"You're lying."

"That's not the point," said Hermione with a sigh. "Just get on the damn broomstick so I can get the hell out of here."

"That's my girl," said Draco approvingly. He climbed on, looking perfectly at home and beckoned her over. Hermione took tentative steps towards the whittled plank of wood and swung a leg over it. She honestly didn't know why people liked to fly on brooms – it was the most uncomfortable way to travel, ever. She barely had time to continue her thoughts when she felt herself rise a few feet from the ground, making her let out a terrified squeak and clutch Draco very tightly around the middle. She shut her eyes tight before screaming as they suddenly shot forwards and upwards out of the greenery. They were only flying for a couple of minutes (the longest couple of minutes of her life, too) when they landed softly. Hermione fell off of the back of the broom very ungracefully indeed.

"I'm never coming out with you again."

"You faced your fear, though, didn't you? Look around, Hermione. Look what I prepared for you." Draco said, gesturing around them. A foot away, there was a large red picnic blanket with an enormous basket of food and a bottle of elf wine. The blonde haired wizard walked over and sat down on the blanket before he patted the space next to him. "Welcome, Hermione, to our first date."

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><p><strong>I wasn't entirely sure about this chapter, but there you go anyways. I hope you liked it, and I hope you continue to like it :)<strong>

**Lottie.**


	7. First Date

**I know it's been ages, please don't kill me! I'm so sorry, it's just that I couldn't carry on with it. But I'm back, it's here, it's okay. **

**Mahoosive thanks to: act-not-think, Fickle Love, mysterywonder, Taylor-Knight20202, Lena8993 and They [dot] Said [dot] Speak [dot] Now (your pen name wouldn't come up last chapter, sorry) for Story Alerting or Favourite Story-ing this fic :) **

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><p>"First date? You couldn't have just asked me out like any normal person?" Hermione asked the blonde haired man shrewdly, though inside, she was excited and flattered. She didn't think that perhaps he liked her the same way she liked him, and it was a good sign, she thought, that he had kidnapped her for an actual date. After her drugged up confession less than a week before, she had worried that he'd avoid her like she had Spattergroit. And yet here they both were. Alone. For a date. Hermione was tugged out of her brain when she heard him talk again.<p>

"You might have said no. Besides, I'm not _normal_," scoffed Draco. "I'm extraordinarily special."

"Oh, you're _special _alright," muttered Hermione, rolling her eyes at him. But she still grinned at him and flopped down on the big blanket next to him and watched while he dished up some food for them. Hermione took a bite of a blini that was topped liberally with creamed cheese and smoked salmon and sighed. "This is wonderful."

"This is only the beginning," said Draco, before he bit into his own blini. Hermione looked interestedly at a cake, but Draco shook his beautiful head at her. "That's for later."

So for more than two hours, the unlikely friends sat together, eating the tiny snacks and drinking much more wine than Hermione intended and chatting like they had been friends for their entire lives. And then Draco passed a very nearly drunk Hermione a large cupcake that was topped with gold icing. The emerald icing lettering spelled out a sentence she already knew the answer to:  
><em>WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND?<em>

Hermione eyed Draco seriously, watching his apprehension and anxiety increase until she finally decided to speak. "Are you serious about this?"

"You think I'm not?" Draco asked, obviously surprised. "Hermione, I like you. I really like you, and I want you to be my girlfriend – exclusively. Weasel-bee obviously didn't realise what he was passing up when you two broke up. You're perfect to me, Hermione. Any man would be lucky to have you."

"Draco..."

"I mean it," interrupted the blonde. "I meant every word I said. If you're willing to have me, I'll be yours and yours only. Will you be my girlfriend?"

Hermione studied his face like the textbooks she used to pore over excessively. She'd grown up now. No longer was she thirteen years old and figuring out that her professor was a werewolf. No longer was she arguing with Ronald about how to talk to the First Years. She'd changed, and a year on the run had certainly helped that. She had nothing more to lose, and being with Draco Malfoy couldn't be a bad thing, could it? After all, he had changed too. So she said one word that would suddenly change everything between them.

"Yes."

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><p><strong>Okay, so I again apologise for the ridiculous amount of time it's been since the last update, and I hope that I won't do it again, but I can't promise a thing, sorry :)<strong>

**Lottie**


	8. Ballroom

**Hello :) I'm back.**

**Thanks to ushallneverknow for adding this to Story Alert, and mst0180, Browneyedgirl91 and henben for adding this to their Favourite Story lists.**

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><p>Hermione looked around the room with an odd mix of emotions. Half of her was impressed at just how beautiful the ballroom was and the other half contemptuous at the fact that they even had a ballroom. However, the Malfoy family never did anything by halves –she knew that personally, considering the scars on her arm. The scars brought painful memories back to light, and Hermione wished for what must have been the millionth time since receiving them that she could hide them in any other way than by a disguise. However, the blade with which the word 'Mudblood' was carved on her arm had some sort of poison imbued in it, meaning that there would never be any way that the scars would go away. At the sound of footsteps drawing nearer, Hermione's attention refocused on the room she was standing in. She was standing in the ballroom, the most elaborate room within the Manor.<p>

"I'm not sure why we're here, Draco."

"I wanted to show you," replied Draco with a smile. He laid one hand on her hip as he stood in front of her. She looked into his grey eyes and wondered again whether she had made the right decision when she agreed to be his girlfriend.

"Yes, but why?"

"I want you to meet my parents. I thought that if I danced with you in here, it would sweeten the deal."

Hermione stared at him with an eyebrow raised. She was seriously wondering whether her new boyfriend was actually insane. "You want your pureblooded parents, the ones who let your Aunt torture me in the other room – yes I'm going there, let me finish. Your parents, the ones who hate muggles and mudbloods and anything that isn't a pure Slytherin trait or action, you want me to meet them?"

"As my girlfriend, yeah."

"You've gone mad. You need to go to St. Mungo's. Something's addled with your brain and you're not thinking rationally," said Hermione exasperatedly and in a rush.

"No, I'm not mad, and I don't need help. I want you to meet them so that they can see how important you are to me." Draco told her seriously. "And just so you know, they feel awful about what _she_ did to you."

"They feel awful," said Hermione lowly, with a definite edge lacing it.

"Dance with me. Come on, we're in a ballroom, let's dance," said Draco suddenly, trying to diffuse the tension building. "Come on Hermione. We'll talk about this later, but for now, look! It's a big, beautiful, _empty _ballroom, just for us."

"We will talk about this later," Hermione promised, "but for goodness sake, a ballroom? You couldn't have asked me to dance in your flat, no?"

"'Course not, what would be the fun in that?"

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><p><strong>Okay, so I'm thinking that maybe the next chapter will be from Draco's POV, because it's pretty much all Hermione atm.<strong>

**Til next time :)**

**Lottie**


	9. Meeting the Parents

**Yeah, it's been a while, but I've been really busy with my studies and being incredibly ill. These things are time-consuming, y'know? This chapter is a little more tense than the others, but the next one will be really nice, I promise.**

**Okay, so thanks to: Ifyoulovemesmile, MidnightNight157 and alekeneka for adding this to their Story Alerts.**

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><p>"Hermione, this is my mum and dad. Mother, Father, this is Hermione."<p>

"We know who she is," said Lucius abruptly, prompting a mixture of anger, dread and sadness drop like a weight into his stomach. While he may not have expected his parents to welcome Hermione with open arms, he expected them to at least be polite.

"Thank you for inviting me to your home, it's beautiful," replied Hermione courteously, though somewhat tensely. Draco knew that she was on edge from the way she was gripping his hand. If she didn't let go soon, he'd have to amputate the damn thing, and it was his wand arm as well.

"We didn't invite you, our son did. He believed it was of the utmost importance that we met you as his... _girlfriend_," Narcissa said softly, her lip curling upon uttering the last word. Draco's insides boiled – this was not going as planned.

"Right," said Hermione just as softly, but her voice was ice-cold.

"Watch your tone when speaking to my wife!"

"Watch your tone when speaking to my girlfriend!" Draco retorted. "You've been nothing but rude to her since she came here."

"It's rather amusing, actually, Draco. You seemed to be under the impression that your parents felt great remorse for what occurred here less than a year ago. However, it appears that in their eyes, I am the same filthy little Mudblood they have always seen me to be." Hermione interrupted, her voice still cold. Draco looked between his parents and his partner, unsure of what to do. However, Hermione had the answers for him. "I'll be going now. I know when I'm not wanted, though I did hope that you would treat me with a tiny bit more respect out of courtesy for your own son. I suppose that for once, I was wrong."

She wrenched her hand out of his and Apparated out of his parents' home, while Draco stood and watched. He threw a withering look at his parents. "Did you really have to be so rude? You could have made the effort with her – I plan to have her in my life for as long as possible."

"But why?" Narcissa asked, laughing out of what seemed to be disbelief.

"Because I... I enjoy her company and I am very attracted to her. She is the only person I know to challenge me intellectually and I wanted to impress her. She's not going anywhere in my life, Mother. She is as important to me as you are, and if you can't be at least polite to her, then you should be aware that you're tearing me apart."

"Don't be so melodramatic, boy!" Lucius snapped.

"I'm not being anything of the sort, Father. I need to leave now. I hope that you're willing to apologise to her soon." And with that, Draco gripped his wand and turned on the spot, feeling the uncomfortable pressure closing in on all sides before he appeared in Hermione's apartment, where she was drinking her way through a bottle of elf-made wine.

"Draco?"

"I'm here."

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><p><strong>I love to hear feedback from you guys, and I'm more than open to suggestionsprompts etc, so drop me a PM or review any time.**

**So until the next chapter,**

**Lottie.**


	10. Going Out

**Here's another one. It's quite a bit sweeter than the last one. In case you're wondering later, the phial of potion she drinks is a sobering one.**

**'Kay, enjoy!**

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><p>"You know, if you're looking to get off your face drunk, elf-wine isn't the way to go," said Draco, smiling at his girlfriend as she poured another goblet of wine. He thought it may have been her fourth.<p>

She smirked at him. "I'm not looking to get off my face."

"You could've fooled me." Draco replied, laughing.

"Let's go out. Get a bite to eat. It's quite early in the evening, there's no reason why we couldn't get a bite at that new restaurant in Hogsmeade." Hermione said thoughtfully, setting her goblet on the table. "I'm sick of either being in the house or being at work. Let's go and have some fun for once."

"Aren't you worried about what people are going to say when we're seen out together?"

"Who cares? People are going to gossip either way, aren't they? I'm proud of being your girlfriend, Draco. I don't care what Rita Skeeter or people like her have to say. I don't care if Xenophilius Fucking Lovegood writes about us. I like you. A lot." Hermione said before waving her wand. A tiny phial came zooming out of what looked like her bathroom and she caught it deftly before downing it in one.

"Alright, let's go then," said Draco, and he held his arm out for her to take before he turned on the spot. Hogsmeade was quite cold, but it was beautiful in the setting sun, with the silhouette of Hogwarts casting a – excuse the pun – magical atmosphere in the village. The pair walked slowly, though purposefully, down the high street, stopping to look in shop windows every now and again before they walked into the warm restaurant. Almost instantaneously, people's heads started turning towards them, but Hermione held her head high and walked to a shadowy table in the far corner and sat down, with Draco following swiftly after.

"Going out," started Hermione, "was definitely a good idea."

"Really?"

"Really, Draco," said Hermione, lacing her fingers with his over the table, and leaning forward to give him a lingering kiss on his cheek, wiping all thought from his mind. Suddenly, he agreed with her. Going out _was_ a good idea.

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><p><strong>Til the next chapter (which I'm hoping to get done by tonight),<strong>

**Lottie.**


	11. Touch

**I'm never making promises to you guys again. I always seem to break them. I'm an awful person.**

**Thanks to KatM14 and Mallovoriel (who also added me to Author Alert, you beauty, you) for adding this to Story Alert.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Their dinner passed quickly by with laughter, more than a few drinks and being Side-Along Apparated back to Hermione's place by a disapproving Aberforth Dumbledore.<p>

"I'll not do this again! You two need to watch the amount you're drinking!" Aberforth had said while he bit back a smile. Hermione waved at him, and the old man Disapparated out of the park near to Hermione's flat. She stumbled towards her front door with Draco in tow, and quickly used an unlocking charm before the pair literally fell into the flat.

Hermione giggled and attempted to push Draco off of her, but he seemed perfectly comfortable just lying with his head on her chest, and he told her as much.

"Draco, your head is really heavy," remarked Hermione with a small smile on her face. She couldn't help but play with his soft white-blonde hair as his ear was resting above her heart. After a few minutes of them lying in the hallway, Draco's left hand snaked up to rest on the bare skin of her hip between the waistband of her trousers and the hem of her t-shirt. It was that one touch that had Hermione's heart hammering and her head clearing.

One touch. That was all it took for her to realise how good she had it with Draco. He didn't push her at anything, he genuinely cared for her and he had chosen her over his parents. That one touch had her wishing that time would just stop and that the one moment they were sharing would never end.


	12. Asleep

He'd fallen asleep in her bed. No, not like _that_, but he was asleep in the same bed as her nonetheless. Aside from the initial panic and the checking that they both had vital items of clothing on, Hermione's mind wandered to the man beside her. She never would have guessed that he would have looked so _ethereal_ when he was asleep. Gone was the structured sexiness that Draco Malfoy normally exuded. In its place was a natural beauty that just radiated out of him like a whole different type of magic. Hermione wondered idly whether Draco was part Veela at all, he was certainly fair enough for it. She sat up and leaned against the headboard, opting to simply gaze at him.

He uttered a tiny little sigh and rolled towards her, throwing an arm over her legs and smiling. He was still asleep, and he still looked beautiful.

"Tempus," whispered Hermione to the darkness, and a glowing figure loomed in front of her, making her sigh and wave the number away. It was 4:42am, and now that she was awake, there was no way she could fall asleep again. And Draco was cuddling her legs like he was a five year old and that her legs were his teddy when he was upset. Crap.

Hermione couldn't even figure out how they'd gotten in the position of being in the same bed. She couldn't remember anything past the Three Broomsticks. Oh Merlin. The Broomsticks. Butterbeer. Which she could barely hold. And when she got tipsy on Butterbeer, she usually requested -

"Firewhisky!" Hermione said in a scandalised voice. That was why Hermione couldn't remember anything. And if she had been drinking, she would bet her life that Draco had been too. Hence why he was still fast asleep. Though he could take alcohol better than her (to be honest, even a twelve year old could take alcohol better than her), he also liked to drink a lot more than her, so either way, they would both be absolutely buggered by the end of the night. And though it had never, _ever_ happened before, they would end up in the same bed. "Sweet mother of Merlin, I'm such an idiot."

"No you're not."

"Oh my Merlin! You scared me!" Hermione shrieked. "Can't you make some sort of noise, like a normal person? Clear your throat or something. Or even poke me!"

"Sorry," said Draco in a tone that implied that he certainly wasn't. "My point is you're not an idiot. Why would you think you were?"

"The consumption of alcohol in excess. Again." Hermione said with a deep huff.

"Go back to sleep, you looked happier asleep."

"How would you know? You were asleep yourself."

"Well... oh alright."

And within seconds, the man was fast asleep again.


	13. Book

**Big thanks to Pineapplepeople for adding this to Story Alert :)**

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><p>Draco appeared to be completely sucked into the book. Not literally, of course, but he was riveted. Hermione wondered whether she had ever looked like that whilst reading. His facial expressions changed as his eyes zoomed across the pages – smiles, frowns, looks of shock, derision, fear. His face looked every bit as interesting as the words to illicit the changes of expression.<p>

_The Fellowship of the Ring _was balanced in-between his crossed legs where he was sitting on Hermione's sofa. On the little table beside the sofa sat a goblet of pumpkin juice and a bowl of popcorn, though they were being ignored without care. It made Hermione laugh, to be honest. Five months ago, when Hermione first started seeing Draco on a regular basis, he had looked upon her in scorn for reading Muggle books, but here he was, reading J. R. R. Tolkein, who was very much a Muggle. Draco had been reading that book for precisely four hours, and had not eaten anything, drank anything or even been to the bathroom.

It was another three hours until he'd finished the book, Hermione noted sourly. He'd been away for a month, and so far, he'd paid more attention to her book that her. Hermione wasn't happy.

"Hermione Granger, I will never doubt your taste in books again. Ever." Draco said, finally setting the book aside. He rubbed his eyes gingerly.

"Do you want some eye drops?"

"No thanks, I'll be fine."

"You know, Draco, if you hadn't been reading that book for seven hours straight, your eyes wouldn't be sore." Hermione said lightly, though reproachfully.

"Blame Tolkein. If his book weren't so riveting, I wouldn't have found it impossible to put down." Draco retorted with a smile, his eyes closed. "I'm exhausted, Hermione, I think I might go home."

"Don't, Draco. Stay with me tonight. We've not spent any time together for a month since you were away on that training course for the Auror office, and you coming here and spending two hours with me before discovering that book don't count."

"Are you telling me, in your own weird way, that you missed me?" Draco asked with a smirk. Hermione shook her head, and his face fell.

"No! I didn't mean that I didn't miss you – of course I did. I was shaking my head at your retort. And what I said wasn't weird at all, thank you very much." Hermione said indignantly.

"I'll stay in the spare room," Draco assured her and Hermione smiled in return.

"Okay," said the woman, and she stood up and crossed the room to settle herself beside him on the sofa. He opened his arms to invite her in for a hug, but she slid closer with other plans. The book dug into her leg painfully, and she tossed it across the room. There was a question on the face of her boyfriend, but she disregarded it in favour of framing his face in her small hands. Recognition flickered in his eyes a second before her lips touched his softly.

Hermione was almost hesitant in the kiss, but her lips moved against his, the sensitive skin barely touching. That was until hot hands pulled her face closer to his so that the kiss became hard, urgent and passionate. Draco's teeth nibbled almost lovingly at her lower lip, and Hermione broke the kiss with a gasp.

"Where did you learn_ that_?"

"Believe it or not, from a book." Draco said, laughing. His grey eyes kept flickering to her lips, which Hermione was almost certain were red and swollen. She chuckled back, and tucked a curl behind her ear.

"Don't tell me, the Kama Sutra for kissing?"

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><p><strong>I am taking prompts and requests for ficlets, so anything you want to see I will write. Credit will of course be given where appropriate, just leave the prompt idea in a review or PM, and I will write it up ASAP.<strong>

**Lottie.**


	14. Pokémon

**This is only a little one, and it's inspired by the pirate Pikachu my friend Neda drew on my chalkboard wall yesterday.**

**Quick note to The Hawthorne Effect, the bit about the book was Hermione being sarcastic. As far as I know, there isn't a Kama Sutra book about kissing, and I'm pretty sure Hermione wouldn't know about it if there was.**

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><p>"Hermione, what is that?" Draco asked her when they were out in muggle London one day.<p>

"That is someone dressed as Pikachu, Draco."

"What's a Pikachu?" Draco asked. He sounded like a child, Hermione noted with a smirk.

"Pikachu is a Pokémon. From a Muggle cartoon series."

"Well what is Pikachu doing here?"

"Probably advertising the show. Why do you care?"

"I... I don't. I was just curious."

"My video player works, do you want me to buy the first video of Pokémon for you?"

"Yeah. I want to see what all the fuss is about."

"The only one fussing, Draco, is you." Hermione said as they walked past the giant yellow creature. There was a loud, but muffled thump behind them, and the pair whirled.

"Oh, I don't know, Hermione. Looks like Pikachu's fussingon the floor there... and the little kid kicking him."

Hermione sighed.


End file.
